


Land Before Tim 2:  Douglas's Hatchday

by Linguini



Series: Land Before Tim [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Fluff, Gen, dino!MJN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linguini/pseuds/Linguini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas is turning 25, which is a ripe old age for a dinosaur, and might be a little less than happy about it.  But being old doesn't mean he should be counted out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Land Before Tim 2:  Douglas's Hatchday

**Author's Note:**

> The thanks for this, as always, go to the Usual Suspects for their advice, betaing, and cheering.

“--and then he rolled right into the tar pit, can you believe it?” Martin flapped his wings a little from his perch between Douglas’s plates, causing a feather to flutter to the ground. When he didn’t get an answer, he tightened his claws a bit reproachfully and tapped the closest plate a bit. “Hello down there? Douglas?” 

Douglas lifted his head a bit. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Right. Sounds just like Arthur.” He lumbered on until he reached the shade of the snick snick tree, and dropped to his haunches to let Martin off. 

“You’re not even listening,” Martin protested as he hopped to the side and stretched his wings a bit. “You didn’t hear a word I said!” 

“I heard,” Douglas said. “Arthur rolled into the tar pits. Got it. Explains the even stickier fur than usual.” He turned sideways and rubbed his hide against the trunk of the tree, working at an itch that had been plaguing him for hours. “Oh, for--” He adjusted his stance and pressed himself closer, rubbing so hard the branches shook above him.

Martin sighed and pecked at him. “Let me. Here, stop, st--” He pecked a bit harder. “ _Douglas_ , stop.” He hopped back up until he could examine the spot more closely then, with a couple of well-placed pecks, worked off the tick that had been burrowed into Douglas’s hide. “There. See? If you’d asked me hours ago, when you first felt it, you wouldn’t have had to be annoyed by that for so long. Is that why you’ve been grumpy all day?’

“I’ve not been grumpy,” Douglas grumbled. “I’m my normal, cheerful self.” And he gave Martin a smile to demonstrate.

Martin shuddered and flew up into the branches of the tree. “For an herbivore,” he called down, “You have an awfully… _eat-y_ smile.”

Douglas rolled his eyes. “You don’t have enough to meat to make it worth my time. Go on then, since you’re up there. Bring us down some snick snicks. And remember they’re meant to be purple. If you bring the pink ones and Arthur eats them, on your head be it.” He rooted around for in the mud until he’d dug up a few choice bulbs and dragged over a large leaf to hold the food.

“Martin,” he called, when he’d dug up enough for everyone. “I’m going to get some water flowers. I’ll be back.” His only answer was an offended squawk as one of the bunches of snick snicks proved too much for Martin to handle. Douglas wandered along the banks of the lake, letting the false cheer slide off him--it was exhausting, putting up a front for so long. He wasn’t upset, _per se_ , just tired, and feeling….well, _old_. He was, after all, turning twenty-five, which was a nice ripe age for a dinosaur.

Douglas reached the spot where he knew the best water flowers were and stretched out his neck to snag them carefully, wincing when he felt the joints creak a bit. But he managed it and dragged four of the biggest ones out and started back, pointedly not checking his reflection in the still, clear water for the new spot that would signal another year of his life.

His secret water flower spot was nearly all the way around the lake from where they usually ate, so it was a long while before he was within earshot of the snick snick tree. Instead of the usual sounds of Arthur, Carolyn, and Martin chattering, though, he heard the high pitched squawking of a Martin in distress and unfamiliar growling. He dropped the water flowers and sprinted the rest of the way around the lake, crashing through the tall grass and bushes to find Martin, surrounded by three raptors, one of whom was standing on his tail, making Martin’s increasingly desperate attempts to fly away futile. 

“Gordon,” Douglas roared as he charged forward. “Let him go!” 

With a snarl, Gordon took another snap at Martin’s neck, coming just shy of catching him, then turned his head to give Douglas a wide, toothy grin. “We were just having a bit of fun, weren’t we, Tom-o?” he said, nodding to the dinosaur standing on Martin’s tail.

“Yup,” he replied, though the gleam that spoke of the expectation of a meal never left his eye. Douglas wasn’t concerned with the two of them--he was watching the third, the smaller one, though clearly more vicious, and with sharper claws. His concern was well founded because before he’d gotten close enough, she’d taken a good swipe at Martin, catching him in the side with her talons. Douglas was just able to make out Gordon’s sharp “Hayley!” before he lowered his shoulder and barreled into her, knocking her into the tree. She was up again in a flash, though, and the three of them set upon Douglas with a fury. He managed to get a few good licks in on Gordon and Tom with his tail, but Hayley was faster and managed to dodge him. 

“Martin!” he panted. “Get Carolyn!” 

Martin hesitated, but flew off awkwardly, aimless and unsteady with a damaged tail and side. Douglas felt his strength flagging--getting too old for this, he thought--but he lasted as long as he could, though he couldn’t help the frisson of relief that sparked down his spine at the sound of his friends calling through the woods. 

“Gordon!” he heard Carolyn roar. “If I get my talons on you…” She left the threat unfinished, but it was enough. Douglas got another swipe at Hayley that elicited a yelp as she hit the ground hard, but it left his flank undefended to the combined force of Gordon and Tom charging into his side. As they collided, he felt the ground beneath his feet crumble, and a disconcerting sensation of weightlessness before the splash of lake water closing in around him.

The ensuing panic as his bulk dragged him down robbed him of breath and sent his heart racing. No! No, no, no, no, no, please! He thrashed and flailed, and eventually, his head broke above the surface of the water. It was only a brief moment, but it was enough for him to take a breath before he was pulled back under to struggle again. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to make it to shore and looked around frantically for Martin. He nearly collapsed in relief when he saw him hopping along the shore and Gordon and his minions nowhere to be found. With a grunt, Douglas fell to the mud as his legs gave out under him, completely spent. “Mar--” he started, but got no further. The world spun sharply once, twice, grew dim, and he saw no more.

When he finally blinked heavy eyes open, it was to the sight of Arthur, whose face was close enough to his that he could feel the puffs of air as he breathed. Douglas groaned a bit and dropped his head back to the ground.

“Ah, you’re up,” Carolyn said. “Finally decided to stop lazing about. Excellent.” But there was an undercurrent of worry to the twitch of her tail that she couldn’t quite hide. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by the arrival of Martin, carrying something in his talons. 

“I found it. Just above the treeline on the purple mountains.” He dropped it in front of Douglas and landed, even less gracefully than normal, folding his injured wing to his side. 

“Good,” Carolyn said. “That’s the last of the flying for you, for a while. You’ll stay on the ground where we can see you until that wing heals, or you’ll go headfirst into the lake, and there’ll be no one to get the snick snicks.” She gave Douglas a sharp look. “Eat that. All of it.”

Douglas sniffed it, and closed his eyes against the bitter smell. “No. I’m fine. Just let me rest a bit.” The admission of needing rest at all was more telling even than the gash that stretched from his third plate to his flank.

Carolyn thwacked him with her tail, neatly avoiding the various scrapes and cuts. “Eat it, that’s not a request. It’ll prevent fever.”

He grumbled but stretched out enough to snag it between his teeth, and finished it in two large bites, washing it down with a nearby puddle. “Alright?” he asked petulantly. “Satisfied?”

“I’m never satisfied where you’re concerned,” she grumbled, but she let him alone anyway.

“Mum,” Arthur called from where he’d set aside Douglas’s share of the snick snicks. “Now?”

Carolyn sighed. “Go on then. But be quiet about it”

Arthur cheered and then cut himself off, approaching Douglas with something long and slender. “I found this for you,” he said and stuck it in the mud, fiddling with it a bit and huffing until it he got it to his satisfaction. When it was properly satisfied, he ducked his head and blew across it, just so, and it gave a low, humming whistle. Arthur straightened with a grin. “Isn’t it great? And I know where there are loads more! And they all make different sounds, so you can pick the ones you like to make a song with. Happy hatchday, Douglas!”

Douglas pushed himself up carefully and eyed the odd reed, then gave it a curious blow, feeling pleased when it hummed properly on the first try. Arthur looked at him anxiously. “Do you like it?”

“I do indeed,” he said. “It’s a good gift. Thank you, Arthur.” His tail swished a bit stiffly in happiness as Martin hopped up.

“I had a gift for you,” he said, “but it...ended up in the lake. I’m sorry.” And he truly looked it.

Douglas gave a thoughtful hum. “You flew all the way to the purple mountains? To get the flowers?” Martin shrugged the tiniest bit, wincing when it pulled at abused muscles. “I think that’s a more than adequate gift, Martin. Thank you.” He managed a sincere almost-smile when Martin looked up, and Martin gave him an even smaller, though just as sincere one in return.

“Well, for my gift,” Carolyn said haughtily, “You’re not dead are you? Happy hatchday.” And she did, in fact, look smug about the fact that Douglas had managed to wrest himself from the watery depths. “Now if this meeting of the Douglas Appreciation Society has concluded, could we get about the business of eating? I’m famished.” She didn’t wait for the others before she sat down in front of the leaf, though she watched Douglas with a weather eye as he made his slow, careful way over and very deliberately picked the softest spot to lay on. 

Arthur was over by his side nearly as soon as he’d gotten his bulk settled, laying a bunch of the juiciest snick snicks close enough that Douglas didn’t have to stretch far to get them before plopping onto the sand with his back against Douglas’s uninjured side. Martin snagged a water flower and fluttered his wings just enough to aid his hop onto Douglas’s back and settled into his customary spot. For her part, Carolyn kept her distance, though not quite as far as usual, and still close enough to react quickly in case something happened.

Douglas managed most of his treats before the fever flower took hold and dragged him under again. He woke up a few times with a start, but each time, Arthur leaned a little more firmly against his side, or Martin dug in slightly with his claws, or Carolyn cleared her throat to let him know they were there--that he wasn’t alone, which was the best gift of all.


End file.
